


Last Request

by gatekat, Verilidaine



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, PnP sex, Spark Sex, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and the Decepticons lost, but the Autobots didn't exactly win. The ruling party are former Neutrals, though they give lip service to the Prime. The last of the Decepticon officers is up for execution and Starscream decides to make good use of his last request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Passionate Planning

Crimson optics snapped on at the sound of pedefall, sharp and focused on the hall past the energy field that was keeping him locked in his cell. There was another energy field above him, one that opened up to the sky--after all, the Autobots weren't _inhumane_ \--but for once he was far more interested in the one leading to the hall. The Warden was going to be asking him for his last request, and oh, did he have one.

He suspected--predicted--that this request was only going to get him executed before the orn was out, and it went against every instinct to do something that would bring his demise sooner, but it was his right, and at least he could have the satisfaction of going out knowing that the winning side wasn't the shining beacon of fairness and equality that it claimed to be. He'd planned for every possible outcome, including that one. 

The Warden was a large tankformer with a mean face, the kind of mech that he once would have enjoyed taunting from the sky as the big, dumb, slow target that he was. And now _he_ was the caged one. 

"Well, what'll it be?"

Starscream grinned and lifted his head to face him directly. "I want an interface with Optimus Prime."

Relaxing against the wall with a good view of them all stood a mech not one of them could sense. Despite a lifetime as a spy, silent and invisible no matter what was going on around him, even Mirage was shocked at the statement.

The big tank-alt eventually recovered from his shock and sneered at the caged Seeker. "Not while I'm in charge."

Mirage growled to himself. The last request was an honored ritual. Every condemned mech had the right to ask for anything except their life. Most Seekers had asked for a final flight. Every one of them had received it. A simple timed explosive was set on their spark chamber and they were turned loose on the sky until it went off a joor so or later.

That was most. This was Starscream. Even though Mirage believed this request should not be fulfilled, it was not to him to decide. Only the being, or beings, named in the request had a right to refuse it. Mirage knew that Optimus Prime would not refuse. It was not how Optimus operated. It was not _right_.

Whatever else the Warden had planned, this news had to reach Prime immediately and that meant going to the mech most able to stop the Warden and reach Prime, likely in the same ventilation cycle.

With the same careful steps that had gotten him in, Mirage followed the Warden and guards out to where comm signals were not blocked, then slipped into a quiet spot to ping Prowl.

::Report,:: the Praxian responded almost immediately.

::I am at this moment listening to the Warden of Central Iacon Detention give orders to move Starscream's execution up to the top of the joor, because he did not like his last request,:: Mirage said.

::Which is?:: Prowl requested, the hum of a dozen more channels opening picked up by Mirage's SpecOps grade system.

::An interface with Optimus Prime.:: Mirage's mouth quirked up at the corners when he saw the Warden lift his head in response to a new comm.

::Please repeat that,:: the normally unflappable mech's voice only barely held steady. Across the room, the Warden was going pale enough to worry his guards.

::Starscream requested to interface with Optimus Prime,:: Mirage said, and then sent his recorded file of the request.

::Damn mech, that's one I never thought I'd hear,:: Jazz's giggle joined the comm steam without the normal approval pings. ::He's trying to crash someone, I'm sure.::

::Indeed,:: Prowl answered his mate. ::That is what I thought you said,:: he responded to Mirage. ::I will inform the Prime and deal with the Warden. Do keep an optic on Starscream and ensure he survives to his original execution date.::

::Yes, sir,:: Mirage said before disconnecting the line and heading back into the holding area to guard Starscream as though he was one of his own.

Half a city away, Prowl was growling to himself, frustrated and angry at the unfolding events and the situation it put him in, and took it out verbally and politically on the Warden that had put him there. He would simply have to oversee the prison until a _proper_ Warden could be recruited. It was time to send Smokescreen to talk to Fortress Maximus again and this time not take no for an answer.

That comm dealt with, the former Warden stripped of his rank, security clearance, pension and much of his wits, Jazz tolerated until he finished giggling at Prowl's formidable display of temper and the rest of the digital checks settled, Prowl stood from his office chair. ::Prime. If I may have a moment in person.::

::Of course,:: the Prime answered warmly. ::This sounds like it is of a professional nature?::

::Unfortunately, yes,:: Prowl's sub-harmonics warned of one of those conversations that did not have a winning answer and wasn't for general knowledge.

::All right, let's get it over with,:: Prime said. ::I am free now.::

::I will be at your office in a klik and a half,:: Prowl said before closing the line. He pinged the door when he arrived and stepped in smoothly when it opened. "I had truly hoped such conversations were behind us now."

"I suspect I will agree with you very soon," Optimus Prime said gravely as he stood to greet his SIC, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "What has happened?" 

"The full situation will be in a report. The short form is that the former Warden of Central Iacon Detention exceeded his authority with a prisoner. He has been dealt with. What brought it to my attention requires your response." Prowl hesitated. He knew his anger was still showing just from the harmonics of Prime's field. Yet it was personal. This was one of _his_ divisions screwing up, a mech he had personally chosen for the post betrayed him. "A prisoner made a final request that involves you."

He tried, but Prowl could not make himself say it. His vocalizer, or rather part of the processor that commanded it, simply could not accept the idea of sharing his lover, his Prime, with _him_.

Optimus Prime regarded him, fingers steepled together on the desk. "Only one prisoner has an execution date in the next decaorn. What did Starscream ask of me?"

Prowl forced himself to be still, but his doorwings still quivered with an unusual level of possessiveness. "He asked _for_ you," he eventually managed to bite out.

Optics widened in sudden comprehension. "He asked for an interface with me," Optimus said. As last requests went, an interface wasn't an unusual one, but it was usually with an old lover, or even a mate if the mech had one. 

"Start from the beginning," he instructed. "Everything that happened, including what the Warden did to displease you so much."

Prowl shoved his emotions down and organized thoughts that really should not be so scattered at the request. It was not as if exclusive had ever been part of their threesome. They were not triad, nothing even close to it, but Prowl did not want to share with _Starscream_. He gave his reaction one priority thread, two secondary ones and let it go for the time being with the same protocols he had once used in battle.

"The former Warden asked Starscream for his last request. Starscream replied, _"I want an interface with Optimus Prime."_ The former Warden replied, _"Not while I'm in charge,"_ and left. Mirage, who happened to be observing invisibly for an inspection, followed until he could safely comm me and reported the exchange. While en route to the warden's office he also heard plans to move the execution up to within the joor.

"As much as I despise Starscream, I will not allow minor officials to dictate what is the province of the judiciary," Prowl growled before settling himself again. "Fortunately Mirage was able to contact me in time for me to override all illegal orders. He is now watching Starscream to ensure that no one decides to take justice into their own hands. That Seeker will deactivate in three orns and no sooner."

Optimus managed to hold himself still and quiet until the tilt of Prowl's doorwings indicated that he was finished speaking, but his hands had curled into tight, shaking fists. "He said _what?_ " he yelled with an angry roar from his engines. "To a condemned prisoner? Last requests are to be treated with _respect_ and _dignity_ , not--not--laughed at!" 

Prowl sat quietly as his Prime yelled, repeating many of the things he'd already stripped the former Warden down with, although he almost sympathized with the mech for wanting to protect their Prime from being used by a captured Decepticon. Privately, Optimus had fought against the executions. Publicly, there was little he could do in the face of a Neutral Senate that was pressing death for crimes against their planet. To speak out against them in the public gaze risked his own officers, or even himself. 

Finally, Optimus settled back down, engines snarling and growling. "Has anyone spoken to Starscream since then, or is he _sitting in there_ believing his last request will be ignored?" 

"I do not know. Long-rang comms do not work in that area," Prowl admitted, calmed by his Prime's reaction. "I expect he has not been spoken to."

"Then I will speak to him," Optimus said, rising.

Prowl canted his doorwings in understanding. "You do not need to agree," he reminded his leader. "He may choose something for himself. To go out flying, or to see one of his theories published in Iacon Scientific." 

"Yes, but he did not ask for either of those things," Optimus said. "He made his request and then we failed him, and I will do everything I can to make up for it." 

"I could keep you here for a joor just listing all the reasons interfacing with him is a bad idea," Prowl said, and it was nearly a grumble as he followed his leader out.

"Oh?" Optimus asked mildly. "I am surprised there are so many." 

Prowl gave him one of his famous _you do not even want to know what I could actually manage_ looks and left it at that.

Prime raised an optic ridge back, then looked forward as they walked in silence for a while. "You have never minded when I share my berth with others before," he commented idly as they left the main compound and transformed for the short drive to the detention center. 

"Others have never before included a mortal enemy, personal enemy, a mech with absolutely nothing to lose that we are aware of, nor one smart and creative enough to come up with a plan I can't anticipate," Prowl listed off the basics.

"He will be screened, I will be armed, there will be guards--and I'm sure one of you two, or both--on the other side of the door," Optimus said. "I will be fine." 

"Do you truly have so little idea what a Seeker can do with his bare hands to an exposed spark?" Prowl asked softly. "They are stronger than they look."

Optimus sighed and his field softened. "I am willing to take that risk to fulfill a last request. I do not intend to be reckless, but I would not be able to live with myself if I refused. He has been failed and disappointed by the leadership of this planet too many times." 

"I know," Prowl tried not to grumble. "You would not be Optimus if you did not. I would not be a responsible officer if I did not attempt to talk you out of risky choices. This is as risky as they come."

"Indeed," Optimus chuckled as they pulled into the main doors of Central Iacon Detention. All around them there was organized chaos, both from the shake-up that Prowl had instigated only breems before and from an unannounced visit by the Prime. "I would like to talk to him alone." 

"Yes Prime," Prowl said with his public blandness, but Optimus could see and teek how much he bristled on the inside at it. "This way."

It didn't take them long to reach the maximum-security area for airframes. No one challenged them. There wasn't a mecha functioning that did not know these two on sight. When the final door opened Prowl called out. "Mirage, join me, visibly."

The last noble shimmered into visibility. "Prime," he greeted with a graceful incline of his helm before stepping smoothly past to join Prowl on the far side of the door.

Without hesitation Optimus strode to the cell that housed the condemned Seeker. "I understand your final request involved me."

Starscream lifted his head and there was a moment of--surprise?--before it was replaced with a smirk. "Optimus Prime," he drawled. "What an _honor_. I wasn't expecting to see you." 

"Given you were led to expect I would not even be informed of your request, I am not surprised." Optimus didn't bother hiding just how angry he was at that deception. "The Warden has been dealt with by Prowl. Will you tell me why you asked for an interface with me as your last request?"

"Curiosity," Starscream grinned as his wings lifted in a shrug. "Boredom. An innate desire to create drama and mayhem." 

"To prove that the current government is no more respectful of the law when it is inconvenient than the last one," Optimus suggested easily. "Your request will be granted."

"Ooh, good one, hadn't thought of that," Starscream purred as he rose up to his pedes and walked to the energy field, drumming his fingers against it and canting his wings down seductively. "I'm sorry I haven't had time to set anything out, I have been incredibly busy, as you can see." He gestured back at the cell. 

Optimus shook his helm. "You will have the bomb planted that those who request a flight have and be brought to my quarters. Unless you would truly prefer it to be here?"

"Oh, now you're just aft kissing so I don't complain to management," Starscream said. "Depends on who's holding the button. _Please_ tell me it won't be one of your do-good black n' whites." 

"Would you prefer it to be Ironhide?" Optimus asked with teasing harmonics. "Who of my senior officers would you want it to be, if not the one who told me of your request?" he continued seriously. Given he trusted every mecha who held the rank, Starscream could not suggest one that would be objected to.

Starscream actually pondered the question for several long moments. "Make it your terror doc," he finally decided. "Didn't try to kill him _that_ many times." 

Optimus nodded. "I will ensure your visit will coincide with a time he can be there. Is there anything in particular you wish during this interface?"

"A spark merge," Starscream said seriously. "That's the one requirement. Anything else," his fingers trailed down the field and made a circle by Optimus's spike cover, "Is a poor, condemned mech's bonus." 

Optimus nodded, flaring his field through the barrier to caress Starscream's entire frame in a parting promise of much more to come. "I will see you soon," he rumbled quietly before turning to leave.

Starscream waited a beat, and then whistled lewdly. "Hot aft, Prime!" he called, before he returned to his favorite corner, cackling, to gaze back up at the sky.

* * *

His wings were pulled back, locked together with thick, heavy stasis bands that prevented him both from transforming and flying. His weapons had all been torn from him long ago, but his wrists were still chained behind his back, and another set of chains linking his ankles gave him just enough space to walk. His thrusters had been disabled after Optimus had accepted his request--after all, it meant that he'd never fly again--and now he was being walked, all trussed up, to the Prime's private quarters. 

"Walk faster," Ratchet growled as they neared the door for Optimus's residence. 

"Why don't we put all this gear on _you_ and see how fast you walk," Starscream sneered back before they stepped through and his optics took everything in. It was _nice_ , and even if Starscream didn't know who lived here he'd have guessed it was someone reasonably important. Still, it was nothing like the palace of Sentinel Prime. It was nothing like a palace at all. Everything, from the design to the layout to the mecha bustling about to the frequent lack of décor spoke of wartime and austerity too ingrained to forget about but too unpleasant to live with.

The Seeker had to give Optimus credit. The mech held to his beliefs from beginning to end. From war to victory, he didn't put himself any further above the common mecha than he had to. Lead from the front lines Prime. It had earned him respect even in the Decepticon camp. Even those who hated him and what he represented often respected the mech himself.

Fortunately for Starscream, tuning out Ratchet was simple after a lifetime of tuning out Thundercracker, Skywarp and Megatron, among others. He focused on the door to the private quarters as it opened, well aware that this entire area had been built for a mech larger than he was in every way.

Part of him shivered in eager anticipation for that. If he was really lucky, he'd get the Prime's spike inside him before this was over.

"Starscream," Optimus's voice rolled over him, deep and smooth. "Ratchet, remove the bindings."

Ratchet grumbled but complied, stripping the Seeker of restraints with far more skill than a medic should have, then left after a long, displeased glare at Optimus.

Starscream fluttered out his wings and rolled his wrists to loosen them. "He does not like me very much," he said.

"True, you don't have any dents in your helm," Optimus chuckled as he offered a cube of high grade to the Seeker. "Come, my berth is large and soft."

"How superficial of him," Starscream said as he followed after into the berthroom, fully appreciating the luxurious surroundings he'd be enjoying his final interface in. He took a sip and gave a deep, resonating hum. "I don't think high grade was part of the deal, but that's one of the perks of choosing the Prime. No one's going to tell you no."

"The fact that you are here proves otherwise," Optimus said simply as he relaxed onto his berth and took a sip from his cube. "Though I do suppose it is understandable that you are not aware of my interfacing habits."

"Habits?" Starscream repeated as he held his cube up, tilting it this way and that and watching the liquid move in the light. "Ohh, _habits_. Need an extra jump to get the engines revving?" He smirked. "Extension troubles? Or--oh, don't tell me you're one of those Seeker fetishists. That would be so cliché, Prime."

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Actually that I treat all interfaces as an act of love. I plan to make this last well into tomorrow."

Starscream's optics narrowed and focused while his wings stilled completely. He regarded Prime, not bothering to hide his suspicion as he took that in. "How ... benevolent," he finally said, taking a careful, measuring step to the side, seeing if Prime would shift at all in return. 

"Not the term I would have chosen, but I suppose it applies," Optimus chuckled a bit as he watched the Seeker move.

"What do your black n' whites think about that?" Starscream shifted topics a bit.

"Jazz hasn't commented. Prowl is torn between wanting me to insist that you select something else and hoping you try something stupid so he has an excuse for personal payback," Optimus answered truthfully and sipped his energon. "In general, they do not comment at all. They may share my berth regularly, but we are not mates."

"Mm." Starscream clicked his vocalizer dismissively as he finished most of the cube and took a step forward. "Your tactician-drone will be disappointed. That would be counter to my objectives." He peered at Optimus. "And what do you want, if you want anything at all?" 

"For us to enjoy our time together, thoroughly," Optimus rumbled deeply with honest arousal that came easily to him when faced with a mech who wanted pleasure. "I cannot save your life, but I can make this last," he set his energon on the berthside table and extended his hand to Starscream. "Join me?"

Starscream cycled a gust of hot air through his shoulder vents and eyed the offered hand with a caution born of a lifetime being unable to trust anyone around him. "It shames me that you are the great leader that defeated Lord Megatron," he said, sneering, before finished his drink and tossing the cube over his shoulder and stepping forward, sliding his palm over Prime's and moving onto the berth. 

"Why?" Optimus asked, genuinely curious, as he drew Starscream onto the berth and against him. Despite the strength at his disposal, far more than enough to force the Seeker to do anything, none of it was used. Every move was at Starscream's will.

Starscream tried to suppress his shudder at feeling warm armor against his, and managed to get it down to something closer to a quiver that came out in his wings as his hands went to Optimus's windshield, pressing on the glass, teeking forcefully through it and down into the big mech's chest. "I followed strength and military power," he said. "Discipline and structure. You should never have won. You talked about equality and fairness and love, you seemed so _weak_." His thigh slid up against Optimus's. "And yet, here you are, and here I am."

Optimus moaned softly at the thrust of the field into his frame and the caress of energy directly into circuitry and responded by thrusting back just as hard and deep. His hands reached up to caress the wings spread above him, stroking in smooth circles and lines that set off as many sensors as possible.

The energy thrust seemed to startle the Seeker, and Starscream froze momentarily before the touch on his wings made him melt. "That's cheating," he complained, as he arched into it.

"Do you wish me to stop?" Optimus asked politely, though he didn't stop stroking the wings that were every Seeker's pride.

"If you stop I will personally destroy you," Starscream purred, and pushed hard enough that Prime rolled onto his back, bringing Starscream over him into a straddle. Bright red optics swept over the chassis that the Seeker already knew like his own--at least, visually--and fingers followed along behind, tracing crevices and seams, outlining the windshields, playing in the front grill. "Tell me something, Prime."

Optimus gave an agreeable hum, his attention focused on his hands on those wings, the timing of the pulse of his field and the pleasure he was receiving from Starscream's hands and field in return.

"All that preachy slag--do you _actually_ believe in it?" Starscream asked, and his hands came to center over Optimus's spark again. "Primus and goodness and every sentient being deserving sparkles and love and whatall."

"Yes, I do," Optimus said with a powerful thrust of his field, this time containing just how much he believed what he preached.

It made Starscream shake as his fingers tensed and scraped over glass, hard enough for the metal to give a protesting screech against it. "And you still won," he gasped, and this time, he was amazed instead of scornful. "How?"

"Because Megatron went insane with his lust for conquest. He lost sight that the real power of an army, of a people, are the _people_ ," Optimus shifted his field to a rolling caress. "I never lost sight of why I was fighting. Or perhaps I never lied about why I was fighting. I do not know if he changed partway through the war, or if he simply stopped trying to convince others he was anything other than a megalomaniac."

"Let's not talk about him," Starscream hummed, and leaned forward to claim a kiss. He kept it gentle for a few moments, savoring the way Prime mirrored that gentleness. Then very quickly, it turned savage and biting, as Optimus's lip was caught between denta and pulled sharply. The pain it caused, and how little Optimus minded, crackled across Starscream's circuits with the next flaring inundation from Optimus's field.

It made his engines roar to life, powerful flight systems that wanted to rocket into the sky, and sent his spark racing in his chest as his thighs tightened in around Optimus's waist. 

The Prime had given him until morning. 

Well, then. 

No point in wasting time. 

His hips shifted back and his mouth traveled down, he funneled all his frustration and want for the sky, all the energy he couldn't burn off that went _itching_ through his lines, right into his wires, and his valve cover was burning hot by the time it ground down. He couldn't suppress the groan when the Prime's spike cover slid open at first contact and he could feel the hardware it protected hot and beginning to extend against him.

He pushed back along it, felt the Prime's--the fragging _Prime's_ \--engines rumble under him, hands tightening on his wings, and his cover snapped back, frame eager for this. He shifted up, back, before the spike could extend past what was relatively easy to take in, pressing down on it. "Ever been ridden by a demanding Seeker, Prime?" he asked, half moaned.

"Never been with a Seeker," Optimus's hips drove up hard, hilting himself at half pressure and two-thirds extension. Unless he made a conscious effort, his spike would get no larger than what fit comfortably inside his lover. Protocols he'd first recognized when Prowl had kissed him so long ago flared to full vibrancy within his cortex, coaching him in how to touch and where.

"Then I'm here to tell you that you've been--" A harsh gasp, a sharp buck, "--missing out." Starscream grabbed at Optimus's chest for leverage. "I can take more than that, you know. You won't hurt me."

"I'm sure." Optimus shivered at the flare of pleasure. Despite his personal experience wanting to put his hands on those hips to guide and give strength to their coupling, the protocols told him to keep his hands on the Seeker's wings and to continue stroking them. He obeyed the protocols without hesitation. "It doesn't feel as good when I'm stuffed too tightly."

Well, Starscream knew _that_ was a lie, and he suspected that it was more than dumb luck that had gotten the Prime's spike pressurized to the perfect size. More and more surprises to add to his list. "Fine," he said, with as much condescension as he could get into his voice past the embarrassing moaning. "Wuss," he added for good measure.

Optimus ignored the verbal jab. Even without protocols he knew Starscream well enough to recognize it was meant in much the same way as Jazz did. Only with far less affection. He didn't care. His helm fell back as pleasure burned through him. He'd never attempted to hold back with a lover before, but this one demanded it. This was about pleasuring the Seeker, not himself.

At least Starscream didn't seem inclined to take it slow, or even bother to really savor what they were doing. Optics dimmed in concentration until they were barely lit, looking more like smoldering embers than the crimson fire that they usual were. His wings slowly relaxed down, pressing into Optimus's hands, his head bowed forward and heated air from his shoulder vents washed over Prime's armor. 

His overload came fast and hard, flight engines sounding like they were trying to take off and send him rocketing into the sky, while turbines spun uselessly. Starscream shouted and bucked, and even though Optimus had been half expecting to hear a designation in the cry, it was empty.

It felt _good_ , being deep inside such a high-energy frame as it overloaded, but Optimus relied on protocols and the Matrix to soak up the charge that was threatening his control. One hand remained on Starscream's wing while the other slid down the Seeker's chest, caressing the cockpit, then continuing down until he was stroking the spike cover. All accomplished without altering the rolling thrust of his hips into the overloading frame above him.

"Ha..." Starscream panted, falling back into the easy rhythm, slumping forward a little before lifting his head, optics back to full brightness. He pressed one hand over Optimus's, rubbing it into his pelvis. "You may sing my praises now."

"You are one of a kind," Optimus chuckled, rumbling with pleasure.

"Mm, not _quite_ what I was looking for, but I'll take it," Starscream grinned as he straightened, lifting his arms up over his head, trailing his fingers along the bright red vents. His spike cover slid away and the tip--the same bright, almost white silver as his armor--pressed against Optimus's palm. "If you happen to feel a burning need to worship me as the best frag in universe, please, do not hold back."

"Only the best frag?" Optimus teased him as his fingers curled around the tip with _just_ the right amount of pressure to make Starscream shudder when combined with the full pleasure of his valve.

"I won't hold it against you if you must admit that I'm the fastest, prettiest, smartest mech you've ever met," Starscream purred as he extended into the caress, the shudder moving out into his wings. "One such as me becomes accustomed to such adoration."

"I never understood why you didn't receive more attention. Your plans that I saw were good ones," Optimus shamelessly lavished the praise his lover craved, all without lying. "I do not think there was anyone who wouldn't claim you were the fastest, most agile and stunning flier in the sky."

"Much better," Starscream said with a delighted moan. He tilted his head forward to watch his spike finish pressurizing into the Prime's hand, a darker blue than his were. He had red and yellow highlights running up the length, a thicker blue band along the underside, colors strikingly similar to his lover's. "We look good together, Prime, don't you think?"

"Indeed we do," Optimus said without a doubt. "In another time and place, I would keep you far longer than what I get to."

Starscream hummed and fell silent, letting his head tilt back again as Optimus lifted his knees up, giving him something to lean against. He stroked and played his fingers over the Seeker's spike, watching and analyzing every twitch and moan with the powerful social protocols that every Prime inherited from their predecessor. Even if he'd never personally been with a Seeker, others had, and he had their knowledge. 

One overload down, the long-caged flier felt calmer and saner than when he'd arrived. The jittery energy had smoothed out and Starscream's movements were more fluid, relaxed, shifting his frame in perfect rhythm with Prime's. This felt better, and so did the slower build-up of focusing more on the pleasure than the overload. Even Starscream's occasional comments were a bit calmer. Sometimes.

It didn't much matter as the slide of his spike deep inside the Seeker was jacking his charge up past the point where he'd normally overload, leaving him trembling as he sought to drive Starscream over the edge a second time before he allowed himself to.

Starscream even seemed to realize it at some point and _slowed_ to a torturous pace, grinning as he looked down at the Prime's frame. He said nothing, but the deliberate, up-and-down motion from his thighs was now careful, purposeful, where Prime had been hoping to have reached the same reckless bucking that he'd seen the first time. 

He could teek that Starscream was getting close, though, no matter how much the Seeker was trying to hold off. Subtle vibrations in his frame, the way his engines kept trying to spin faster before they were forcefully throttled back, the way his wings tilted. 

It was most obvious in the wings, and Prime wasn't sure if Starscream realized how much information he gave away with them. Another flier, or even a Praxian, would have been expected, but he'd been created a grounder and had never been anything else. 

The Prime upgrades gave him the ability to read even the subtlest cues there, and the Seeker was _definitely_ close. When the grin faded into open-mouthed panting and the optics dimmed, Optimus steeled himself, swirling his thumb around the tip of the spike. 

Starscream overloaded immediately, his voice pitching even _higher_ than normal as he thrashed back, thighs clenching in around the Prime's frame as his hips worked, shooting transfluid against Optimus's palm. Even before that first burst was fully felt against his plating, Optimus responded to the duel overload against and around him and roared with a powerful thrust of his hips upwards, driving him as deep as possible into the spasming valve to pump the first of many thick jets of crackling, hot transfluid even deeper into Starscream's frame.

It made the Seeker writhe joyfully, squirming as his optics flickered in and out with the strength of the charge shooting through him. It surged with each burst until neither of them had even another joule to give and Starscream sank back, panting and shaking. "Who ... would've guessed it," he said, managing a half-grin.

"You are most impressive in your pleasure," Optimus purred deeply, his engines giving a low vibration intended to soothe and comfort while his hands came up and shakily stroked Starscream's back and wings. "Will you take my valve, or is this too good for it?" he asked, honestly eager for either option. It would all feel good.

Starscream snorted derisively. "Don't beg, it's beneath you," he said as he lifted himself carefully off the Prime's spike. He shuddered and released a careful vent when it finally slipped past the sensitive rim. "If you're so desperate for my spike I _suppose_ I can give it to you."

Optimus moaned, shameless in his desire and flush with the compliment he recognized from the caustic mech. His valve cover slid open, exposing the already dripping opening as the cabling and calipers tightened to match the spike that had been in his hand.

Starscream glanced back and purred deeply from the sound before he moved away from Optimus's legs. He leaned forward against the Prime's chest, nudging with his helm as his wings flicked an order. Optimus obediently shifted up and moved back until he was half propped up against the head of the berth, and had just enough time to settle before the Seeker's mouth was against his again, no more gentle than he had been the first time. Prime kissed him back just as hard, his field expressing the vulnerability of the posture and how eager he was to be filled by Starscream's spike.

With a final, sharp bite that was hard enough to bring up a minor damage warning on Optimus's HUD, Starscream moved away, sliding backwards until he settled with his knees on the berth. His thighs pressed against the insides of Optimus's and he reached down, pressing his palm flat against the valve to quickly feel for the opening, and then the hand was gone and his spike was shoving in.

Optimus's moan was deep, resonant and vibrated them both with the emotional pleasure that was causing bliss for the Prime mixed with the physical pleasure of a hard spike rubbing against his valve nodes. His valve walls and calipers squeezed and rippled, rubbing the spike as it pressed deep inside him. The Seeker leaned forward, bracing himself against the bigger mech, and gave a short, harsh gasp, his wings shivering at the pleasure rolling through him from every angle.

Starscream didn't bother to keep his moans quiet--he knew his voice was grating, he'd been reminded of it often enough--but there was no hand trying to muffle him, no twist of his ailerons to bring him back to reality, not even the annoyed ripple in the field against his, and so he let go as he rocked, his helm coming to rest on Prime's armor. His wings hitched with every thrust, and it felt amazing to push into a space that was conformed to exactly his size. 

"That ... a Prime thing?" he panted.

"Yes," Prime moaned, rocking into the thrusts as well as he was able. "Pleasure works best when parts fit perfectly."

"Yes, but--" Starscream groaned sharply at the cycling squeeze around him, and even during this, he couldn't stop his curiosity. "You measured with your hand, instead of after I was inside, are the sensors that accurate or is it a mix of visual and touch? Is that a unique upgrade, how much--aah--software goes with it?"

"I don't know, it just happens," Prime gasped at the next thrust and squeezed, trying to keep the spike inside and rubbing against primed sensors. "Don't know that either. I wasn't involved in designing or briefed on my new frame. Just onlined like this after I thought I'd deactivated."

"Prime," Starscream whined, and his expression was the most comical mix of a pout and physical pleasure that Optimus had ever seen. "I don't have enough time to investigate, frag it!" A sharp push forward. "We'll just have to, _oh_ , experiment. Just a few."

"Of course," Optimus agreed before his optics flickered from the pleasure. His entire frame trembled before he threw his helm back with a roar of pleasure, sending a three-fold surge into his lover across their fields, across their frames and enveloping the spike that had pleasured him so much.

His charge proved too much for Starscream to hold back any longer and he overloaded into the hot, squeezing valve, grabbing onto Optimus's armor and pulling with each sharp buck, heaving himself into it. 

"Okay," he panted, almost before it had even faded from their frames. "Ratchet ever fragged you?"

"No," Optimus mumbled, only mostly coherent as his valve gave an experimental squeeze. "Not many have. Elita-1, Jazz and Prowl, Ironhide."

"Sooo, how do you think he'd feel about coming in here and fragging you?" Starscream drawled, rocking his hips a little.

"Can't," Optimus moaned, cycling his valve to rub Starscream's spike in all the right ways. "He's on guard duty."

"Okay," Starscream said, and Optimus could practically hear his processors whirring through other options. Another cycle got the Seeker to shudder, but it didn't distract his sharp focus. "Okay--mmm, what about Wheeljack? He's always hanging around Ratchet and he might do it for the science--" 

"Starscream," Optimus said gently, and lifted his hand to stroke his thumb along the vents on the side of the Seeker's helm. Starscream looked up at him hopefully, but Optimus was already shaking his head. He dismissed an urgent incoming comm from Prowl, who was no doubt watching the exchange. "I'm sorry, we can't. I will gladly help you with whatever you can find currently in this room, but it would be a security risk for anyone else to enter." 

The dismayed look surprised him. He'd been at Starscream's hearing and the flier hadn't even twitched at his sentence. To be so visibly upset at not being allowed to test out Prime's pleasure coding? 

Starscream immediately teeked the sympathy and his field sharpened. "I don't like unanswered questions," he snapped. 

"I'm sure Ratchet knows," Optimus suggested. "I will ask him to databurst me the details and schematics for you to see."

"Yes, please," Starscream purred, fully settled again. "As much as I would love to run my own experiments, I do have an upcoming engagement that I cannot miss." He rolled his hips into Prime's. "And it gives you more time to enjoy me." 

"Very true," Optimus chuckled, moving into the push and letting his engines rev back up again. He idly monitored Ratchet's exasperated berating on a background comm line, but he knew that the medic was complying with his request and locating as much information on the systems as he could, downloading it into a datapack to burst over to Prime. He set it aside for later. Now he could focus on enjoying his lover and ensuring that his lover enjoyed their time together.

And Starscream did enjoy that time, fully. Optimus managed to coax him into filling his valve twice more, each time getting progressively slower and more careful as the night grew shorter. After Starscream's second overload he offered the datapack explaining how his systems worked and the Seeker devoured the information before insisting on testing the mechanisms out for himself. 

Prime happily complied, relaxing back onto his arms and letting his legs fall lazily apart as Starscream curiously tried different combinations and positions with his fingers. 

"That is a well devised system," he finally purred when his curiosity was sated, looking up at Optimus as he pulled his fingers out.

"It has been useful," Optimus agreed before shifting back to lay down, the heavy locks and clamps that held his chest armor secure unlocking with the distinctive sound that was one of the most erotic in the Cybertronian world. "Merge with me?"

Starscream's intakes caught for a moment before they resumed with a sharp inward gasp. This was why he'd asked for this. Everything else was fun, but this would be his moment of truth. 

He moved up to straddle the Prime as his cockpit drew up and back and the armor beneath it split and parted. Lighter armor than the Prime's--Seekers stayed airbound in battle for a good reason, a good hit could crumple them--and complex internals came into view, all of them surrounding his spark chamber. He watched the Prime's chest parting in time with his own and knew it was the Prime's complex interface coding at work again to match their state of vulnerability. The near-white glow of the Prime's spark was flaked with every color, but it was not until the Matrix of Leadership moved down and into the light that the crystalline chamber and its resident energy could be clearly seen. The size and strength of that spark all but overwhelmed Starscream's bright yellow, bleaching the light between them into a pale glow reminiscent of Earth.

"Well, _someone_ likes to be impressive," Starscream said with a haughty flick through his wings, but his optics glowed with interest. There was hesitant, careful awe in his field, like he was trying to hold it back. His fingers carefully stroked the outside of the crystal, gazing into the light. "You realize what I could do right now," he said, optics flicking up to Prime's face and finding nothing but calmness there.

"Yes," Prime said with the easy kind of acceptance that came with not fearing the outcome. "I also know that you will not."

"How?" Starscream asked.

Warm blue optics focused on the Seeker with all the intensity that was _The Prime_ and Starscream _felt_ , for the first time in his existence, that this was not just a mech. There was power there, a connection that was as old as their race, if not more. It made Starscream's intakes stall out and he _stared_ at the Prime, shaking when Optimus finally reined his power back in.

"I simply do," Optimus told him, reaching up to stroke his wings in calming circles, aware of just how deeply he'd shaken the creature above him. "Upgrades, the Matrix. Prowl is the master tactician, but my processors are just as powerful. They are merely directed at a different function."

Starscream nodded as he steadied himself, braced on Prime's shoulders, and lowered their frames together. Their sparks, even as complete strangers, were unafraid and met calmly, tendrils tying together and pulling them closer. The coronas brushed and melted together, Starscream made a quiet, indistinct sound, and the shivers of a surface merge passed through both of them.

Starscream felt _Optimus_ first, the mech who had been created when a normal spark had met the Matrix of Leadership. He felt the pain the war had caused, the tiny mote in the Prime's spark that was every life he'd ended. Each had a designation, linked to a memory and to grief that was dulled but there. He felt, _understood_ , why Optimus did not fear deactivation. The Well was real, as was Primus, but it was not where the Prime would go. He would be forever trapped in the Matrix, fully aware of time and events, able to influence the next bearer, but only a small amount.

Then the mech that had become the Prime filtered into Starscream's awareness. Tattered remains of a hard worker, a commoner that had supported Megatron's revolution, only to be betrayed by the warlord when face to face with him. Very little remained of that being, yet he was still the foundation of the mech and spark that called itself Optimus Prime.

Here and there were flickers of _other_ , the Matrix bearers before Optimus that had left an indelible mark on him.

Starscream was ... to put it to a word, amazed. Their sparks were still only brushing in a shallow merge and he could feel strength. Honor. _Honesty_. Willingness to make hard choices and stand behind them, tempered by the humility to listen to other opinions and never close his mind. 

He was a leader, he was everything Starscream had wanted Megatron to be. He just hadn't _seen_ it.

The merge deepened and settled a little more and Optimus was able to get a good look at Starscream. _Prideful_ , was the first thing he felt. Pride in his wings, pride in his flying style, pride in his mind. The Seeker didn't even know the definition of personal shame, it just didn't exist to him. 

But he knew regret, and he understood himself. He understood now that pride had prevented him from leaving Megatron. Starscream didn't easily admit to being wrong, and he'd stubbornly held onto the hope that Megatron would one day become the leader he wanted. 

Because he _wanted_ a leader. He wanted someone strong to follow, and the Prime had just seemed so weak. The Matrix had already proved itself fallible and capable of being corrupted through its previous bearers. Starscream simply hadn't been able to believe that this Prime would care for their planet any better than his predecessors, even more so with the humble beginnings. Who easier to blind with bribes, fancy trinkets and lovely, eager berthtoys than a dock worker from the lower levels? Instead, that commoner beginning, a function that required cooperation and listening to all around, had been brought forward and dominated.

~Primus granted you so much. You will return to him with more,~ Optimus murmured between their sparks. ~Deactivation is only a transition, not an end. You may well find it a fascinating study.~

~I am certain of it,~ Starscream said. ~I have never been afraid to deactivate, only to deactivate before ensuring my home had a leader worthy of it.~

~I am honored you believe I have proven myself worthy,~ Optimus said in all his humble faith. ~I regret that you will not stand at my side for more of it.~

~So do I,~ Starscream whispered as his spark shivered and arched. ~I made the wrong choice. It's done.~ White light seemed to be surrounding him from every angle. ~By the Pit you're _strong_.~ He hadn't expected it. He'd come here planning to assassinate the Prime and be killed in the process, but at least he'd have set the stage for someone better before his crystal shattered. 

Optimus Prime had proven him wrong. He was strong. He would be a capable leader. He was worthy of the mindless devotion that so many had for him. 

He was even worthy of Starscream's devotion, though it would be far from the blind worship of the masses. 

~Tell me, Prime,~ he purred. ~Have you ever _flown?_ ~

~No.~ Optimus's spark leapt at the prospect of being offered such a memory.

~You have been missing out,~ the Seeker said. ~It will help you to understand the fliers who look up to you.~ Optimus felt himself dropped suddenly down, and even though he knew it was a memory, he felt a flare of panic from the sensation of a freefall. ~You're all right,~ Starscream said quickly. ~Don't panic, _look_.~ 

Optimus felt himself guided into the visual, looking down at the glittering surface of their planet as it got closer and closer. The original grounder in his spark -- Orion Pax -- was still very unhappy, while the rest settled quickly, accepting this memory-ability with the same smoothness that it adapted to every new frame it entered. Though it had been inside fliers before, it had never been a Seeker and it was eager for the understanding beyond the social coding the frames always received.

That part, the part of Optimus's spark that was _the Prime_ , relaxed into the incredible sensation, linking it to his flight-memories. The closest he had ever come to this was a convoy-class shuttle. It was nothing at all like flying on Seeker's wings with the ground rocketing towards him.

He trusted Starscream to keep him safe, no matter how alarmingly fast they were falling. It was a thrill, and he could feel the Seeker's _joy_ to be sharing this with another, and through their merged sparks, experiencing it all for the first time again. 

At what seemed like an incredibly late, unsafe moment, Starscream throttled back, his belly close enough to the ground to feel it skimming before his engines roared to life, sending him rocketing up. His afterburners fired hot and bright as he spun in the air. Straight up, straight into the sun, blinding the visual sensors and forcing him to look to internal motion and balance readers. 

He cut his engine, gliding up with nothing more than momentum, until the fall began again, but this time he fell backwards before twisting in midair and bringing his engines back on, diving and dancing through the air currents.

It was pure glory. The purity of frame, spark and processor all in line with action.

Optimus shuddered, grasping onto the joy, the experience, the oneness that he could never experience on his own. He was a rebuilt mech. A being of multiple purposes. He could never have this exquisite sense of giving all of one's self to a single act.

Jealously, such as it could exist within a spark such as his, flickered and licked at the memory, greedy to make it his own and incorporate this understanding into itself. This would not just help him with the fliers among his ranks. It would help him understand every mecha who could align in such a spectacular way.

It was a gift far greater than Starscream thought to give, and Optimus let him know it.

~So basically you're saying I'm more fantastic than even I knew I was,~ Starscream chuckled, banking sharply and giving Optimus a good view of the horizon before he dove into a tight roll. ~Astonishingly I'm not surprised.~

Optimus chuckled and relaxed into the safety that was Starscream's flawless control of the air. ~No wonder no one ever came close to shooting you down for long.~

The Seeker brightened with pride. ~Hold on, you haven't seen _anything_ yet,~ he promised, the compliment prompting him to show off all his best moves. Flying in storms that sent others to the ground. Spinning, high-speed dancing in the crystal canyons that had been Vos. Careening through battlefield skies in what had appeared to the outside as insanity, but Optimus now understood was absolute control. 

Whether it was Optimus's interest or Starscream's love of it, the courting dance he'd frown to win his wingmates, mecha well above him in station and breeding, was brought up as their merge reached its zenith. 

He'd chosen tight, dangerous canyons that even made _his_ spark feel the speed and thrill of it all, made them chase him through a storm until he could prove his worth before rocketing back up above the clouds into the clear skies in the upper reaches of their atmosphere to complete the courting dance. Three fliers became one for a single, physics-defying moment of _flight_ , and Optimus had a new understanding of that glyph. 

One of the oldest in the Vosian language, a glyph of devotion and power and even a certain mysticism. They worshipped flight, the way others worshipped Primus.

And Starscream had been the _best_. 

The bright yellow spark surged in overload as they all three cut through the skies together. The Prime followed with a roar that shook the furnishings of his quarters and all the power that was his spark in full ecstasy surged into Starscream with the joy, thanks and affection the Prime felt for him now.

In the last nanokliks before he blacked out, Starscream felt shocked at the affection directed quite solidly at him. Respect, he'd expected. Worship, would be even better. 

But _affection._

He lifted crimson optics up to the Prime. "And now you've _flown_ ," he whispered, and fell offline.

* * *

Starscream felt warm, his plating reported softness and a field he logged as friendly. He had no reason to boot quickly, and absolutely no desire to break this pleasant dream. His designation, repeated several times, eventually forced him online enough to respond.

"What do you _want_ ," he tried to snap, but it came out as more of a mumble and ended in more of a purr when a warm hand stroked over the edge of his wing.

"It is nearly dawn," the voice was low, gentle, and held the authority of a living god despite not trying to. "I would share pleasure one more time before you must go."

Starscream had to race to organize his thoughts--time, place, _why_ \--as everything came rushing back. He'd been _flying_ , soaring beyond everything, escaping into the stars. 

Many, many times he'd thought about his decision not to--after all, it would have been easy for him to escape the atmosphere and leave the planet behind--but the same reasons that had once kept him at Megatron's side had kept him by Cybertron's. At least he knew his home would be cared for. 

"Of course," he said once his processor was organized and settled, lifting his head as his optics powered on. He gazed at the Prime with new respect. "Should've expected you'd get addicted to me."

A soft smile responded to the statement as the larger mech leaned in for a kiss, soft and long. Prime had left Starscream lying on top of him, mindful that putting a flier on his back, or even on a berth with his wings exposed without consent, was much more serious than it would be to a grounder. "I could easily become addicted enough to never let you go, if we could allow it."

"You just like me 'cause I'm pretty," Starscream said with a grin when a second kiss finally broke, then paused, searching the Prime's face as a hand came to rest over his spark. "Though ... I think, so could I."

"Perhaps in some universe we manage to find out," Prime said with a smile and warm flare of his field at the thought. He placed a trail of kisses along Starscream's jaw towards his throat. "I would take our time in this, our last encounter."

Vents caught, the field shivered with excitement, and Optimus caught a certain feeling of _thrill_ and _risk_ and was about to question it when Starscream sat up. 

For a moment, he thought the Seeker was going to ride him again and his engines began to rumble warmly, when Starscream gripped his waist with his thighs and rolled. Optimus followed automatically, and when the motion stopped, he was above the flier, looking down at him. Starscream had rolled onto his back, onto his _wings_ , and he was looking up at Optimus with the deepest respect. 

"Like this," he said, and ran one of his legs up Optimus's side as he caressed the Prime's antennas with his fingers.

"Thank you," Optimus moaned in pleasure and a thrill of his own. He was no flier, he'd never had wings, but he knew intimately well thanks to his upgrades just how much it meant for a flight-frame to do this. He continued to support the bulk of his weight with one arm while the other stroked slow patterns of respect, care, desire and arousal along Starscream's wing while his lips continued their trail down the Seeker's throat.

It pulled quiet, gaspy sounds from him, his helm went back, his fingers tightened and his frame arched up. Optimus slowly moved a hand down to Starscream's side as he licked along the cables, teeking an utterly trusting and relaxed field for the first time since the Seeker had walked through his door.

He moved from neck to collar, running his glossa over the top of the cockpit glass as his hand slid between their frames to caress the sensors he'd felt the most in the spark-memories. They were designed to read air density as part of a system that measured speed, and when he pressed, Starscream cried out in a dizzying moment of pleasure. Optimus smiled against the glass and kept stroking that single spot until his lips reached it.

Returning his hand to Starscream's wing, he kissed that sensor cluster, x-venting hot air against it before his glossa swirled around the edge. "Have you been brought to overload by touch alone?"

"In the air," Starscream managed, as his fingers clenched down on Optimus's helm, holding him to that spot. "Never on the ground." 

Optimus hummed as he closed his lips around the sensor cluster and pressed his vibrating glossa against it, swirling, humming and sucking. He'd seen enough of Starscream's pleasure, both here and in the memories, to know what was needed to quickly push up his charge. He wanted to savor their last overload, and pushing the Seeker into a quick one right now would help him do that. His mouth seated firmly on that perfect spot, his free hand reached up to find another sensor cluster in the same system, this one on the bottom edge of the wing. He rubbed his thumb along, moving it in small, jerking motions that would simulate gusts of air in a storm as best as he was able. Starscream's cry and the quiver in that wing as it adjusted automatically to the strange readings told him he was succeeding--at least in feeling good. 

One of Starscream's hands disappeared from his antenna and Optimus glanced up to see the Seeker rubbing the same spot on his other wing. His face was washed out in pleasure, optics dimmed in the concentration Optimus had seen before. 

It didn't take much, and he knew as soon as Starscream overloaded that pushing this one had been the best choice for them. As the Seeker came down from it, trembling, his systems were still running hot but the resting charge on his plating was much lower than it had been. 

"Beautiful," Optimus whispered as he retracted his spike panel. His kisses moved lower, exploring every inch of his lover's frame until his lip plates caressed the very top of Starscream's spike cover. Then around the edge before planting a kiss squarely in the center with a swirl of his glossa.

It snapped away immediately as red hips pushed up towards him and Starscream looked at him with surprise in his field. "Pr--Prime," he half moaned, half gasped when the glossa swirled again over the exposed housing, spiraling inward to the iris. "What are you..." 

"Fully enjoying your frame in every way," Optimus rumbled, x-venting heavily against so many sensors that controlled bipedal balance. "I want to taste your spike, then fill your valve so deeply that you will still have part of me inside you."

Starscream's frame spasmed and he grabbed for Optimus's helm for balance even though he was laying flat because those words, that idea--

It sent him spinning, in so many ways.

And he didn't object to a single one of them. 

His spike pressurized immediately against Optimus's lips and the big mech smiled. Instead of immediately taking it in, though, he shifted just enough to lay a line of kisses down the length, enjoying the sensation of feeling all the lines, seams and sensor bumps against his lips that he remembered from his valve.

He moved up and down the spike, mouthing, licking and kissing but never enough to do more than tease at the sensors.

He was driving the Seeker mad, he could teek that much, but Starscream was also _loving_ it. If he knew the Seeker at all, and by now he thought he had a pretty good handle on him, probably better than most with a merge like that, he was sure that Starscream was fully enjoying the leader of the Autobots, the victorious general of a millennia-long war, the Matrix Bearer, the _Prime_ , lavishing attention to his spike in such a way.

It warmed Optimus in a way few things did, watching and teeking the proud mech come slowly undone even before he finally kissed the tip of the spike he was worshiping. Slowly, as slowly as he could stand, he parted his lip plates around the shaft and began to take it into his oral cavity. At the same time he reached up to circle his fingers around Starscream's primary interface port.

A startled flare through the field--disjointed and scattered--before Starscream settled again and the port spiraled open. "You _really_ want into these processors?" he managed.

Optimus simply hummed around the spike he was slowly taking in, and gently plugged in, then took Starscream's cable and plugged it into himself. ~Yes,~ he said firmly once the protocols allowed it. ~I would _know_ whatever you have that would benefit Cybertron and our people. I will ensure it reaches the best audials to be put to use.~

Starscream groaned deeply as he lowered his firewalls completely to the powerful processors before him, something he'd never done before. He wasn't sure if Optimus understood--though he suspected he did--how much he treasured his _knowledge_ , and how much this felt like a way he could live on. If nothing else of him survived, at least there was _this_. The request, beneath it all, was a gift. ~Thank you,~ he gasped, as his vision started to white out and he pushed his hips against the warm mouth, whining at the painstakingly slow pace that Optimus had set.

~You are welcome, and I thank you,~ Optimus said, offering just how fully he understood what this meant to Starscream, but also how much he treasured the gift of the Seeker's knowledge himself. Downloads, masses of data that would take even the Prime decaorns to sort out, poured over the hardlines, the energy going almost completely one-way -- into Prime -- to be recorded as fast as possible into a vast memory bank that had been cleared just for it.

The charge made Optimus's spike quiver with need even though it was not being run through interfacing protocols. His field gave no doubt how badly his frame wanted to sink into the Seeker's tight, slick heat, yet Optimus focused on the spike before him rather than his own. Finally, finally, his lip plates pressed against the spike housing and he _sucked_ , closing his intake around the tip and swallowing.

Starscream's helm slammed back and he _screamed_ as he overloaded, holding Optimus's face firmly against his pelvis while he bucked, spilling into the Prime. Optimus heard his valve cover unlock, smelled the arousal-heated lubricant, and felt the Seeker's legs pull apart, all while he swallowed and massaged the spike in his intake, unable to lift his head even if he'd wanted to. 

Finally--finally, when he'd thought he might not be able to stand the ache in his spike any longer--Starscream's grip relaxed. He groaned and shifted upward, moving his frame fully over the Seeker's in a single motion and sank his hips down. The motion came across practiced, smooth, as if they'd done it a million times and Starscream was filled with a spike that fit him _flawlessly_.

A single roll of his hips and Prime had pulled almost completely out, only to sink back in with the same slow smoothness that he'd taken with the spike. This would last for as long as it took to download everything Starscream would give him.

He could feel the Seeker's frame trying to push and buck, fresh off an intense overload, but as he cooled and settled and _felt_ the pace, Starscream's optics focused again and he relaxed with a slow, even x-vent. 

~Slowly,~ the Seeker whispered, almost to himself, arms wrapping beneath Optimus's and holding onto his shoulders. 

~Slowly,~ Optimus agreed. One arm above Starscream's wing held his weight while allowing him to stroke the helm vents as the other hand slid down the Seeker's side, first to his hip, then his leg, wrapping around and pulling up with the next slow push. 

Starscream gave a soft moan and pressed up for a kiss that was readily granted. Slow, exploratory and as deep as the spike inside Starscream's valve. Optimus used everything he knew to create the glowing, warm pleasure that didn't drive a demand to overload quickly. To simply feel good being with and touching someone that was trusted. He could feel how much of a novelty that was, and he wanted to make it last. 

The continuous data stream was delegated to a background processor, put out of his mind and set away from his focus. He had better things to think about right now. 

Like the sounds Starscream was making, the slide of glass on glass, the small shifts in their frames that felt like so much more. Starscream's fingers found his antenna again, their mouths caught with hitched intakes. 

Whatever he'd expected, Starscream hadn't been expecting _this_. Part of him kept trying to regret not having given this leader a chance much, much sooner, but it was quickly shut down. He didn't have time for regrets anymore. 

He wasn't even sure they had time for what they were doing anymore. His processor was starting to go blissfully fuzzy from the long, drawn-out interface, which made even looking at his chronometer tricky, but he wondered if they were past their time. At least no one had come in yet, which meant that no one was going to make the Prime stop. He could relax and _enjoy_. 

And, oh, enjoy he did. Each careful roll forward was a slow burning pleasure on his sensors. Steady and even. ~Prime.~ And then, ~ _My_ Prime.~

~Starscream,~ Optimus replied, the glyph full of pleasure and joy that he had earned as much as he had from this fierce and determined mech. ~Beautiful, brilliant, strong, fierce, so very loyal to your cause. Good mecha should not deactivate like this.~

~Good mecha deactivated in many ways they shouldn't have,~ Starscream said, and through his primary awareness, Optimus saw faces flash by. Some he knew, some he didn't, many of them from the early vorns of war. ~Good mecha can be unlucky, good mecha can make the wrong choices. Besides,~ Starscream gave a trilling moan as his frame arched into the next slow rock, ~No one will _ever_ forget my designation now.~

~No, no one will ever forget you,~ Optimus agreed with a low moan. ~They will remember the Decepticon SIC, the Air Commander, and they _will_ remember the scientist who beat all the odds.~

~You will see to it,~ Starscream said, grinning against Optimus's mouth. The data stream was slowing. ~I knew there was a reason I made you my last request.~

~Yes, I will,~ Optimus agreed. As the data stream finally ended, he shivered and finally picked up the pace of his hips, just a little. Just enough to send a shock of bliss through them both. ~I will drive you to overload until you black out,~ he promised with a hard thrust before returning to the slightly better than slow rolling pace. ~However many times it takes for you to fall lax under me, and I will fill you until it spills from you.~

~So ready to be done with me, are you?~ Starscream asked with a sharp moan, but his field completely belied the words. ~I'd like to see you black a _Seeker_ out.~

~Challenging _The Prime_ to an endurance test?~ Optimus chuckled with genuine amusement, yet his slow slide in and out of his lover did not change for more than a single thrust.

~Mmm, you heard me,~ Starscream hummed with a curiously wicked little squirm of his hips, a counter-rhythm that lasted just nanokliks but that squeezed the tip of Prime's spike when he hadn't been expecting it.

~And I will knock you out,~ Optimus said firmly despite the pleasured moan. He held steady to his rhythm, determined to bring his lover to the very edge of begging before granting him the first of several hard overloads.

~And somehow, of that, I have no doubt,~ Starscream said as he looped his arms around Optimus's neck, purring and moaning with every slow push. 

Part of him was screaming at the pace and wanted to push and urge for it to be _faster_ than this, wanted his overload _now_ , but it was a small part. The rest of him was savoring, something he had done very little of in his very long life. Whether from the impatience of youth or the urgency that war created, stopping and just enjoying had been rare, and it had never been like this. 

As last frags went, he decided this was a good way to have one. The scientist in him pointed out that he had no sample group to compare to, as a more philosophical side mused about the impossibility of anyone knowing what rated a _good_ last frag. He could tell that Optimus was watching him think, but the big mech didn't say anything, and he seemed to understand that Starscream was incapable of _not_ thinking. 

And anyway, most of his focus _was_ on his lover, and the slowly building heat spreading through his lines. He was tingling all over with charge, but they were moving so slowly that it didn't have enough time to build up for a release before spreading out through his frame. 

A soft gasp escaped Starscream as he felt the warmth begin to crackle and realized that at the current rate it would never reach a full overload. Optimus was keeping the pace just slow enough that the peak would never be reached.

"Priiiime," he whined, his fingers dragging along the grounder's armor, before quickly biting down on the plea, leaving it coming out as a muffled, stilted groan. Not yet. Not _yet_. He could hold out. 

~What was that?~ Optimus chuckled, and _damn_ him, he knew what it had almost been. 

~Nothing,~ Starscream gasped, and he wanted to curse at him, but he didn't even have enough extra processor power right at that moment to do anything but keep his vocalizer muted.

Optimus chuckled against his throat, shifting for another languid kiss as he continued to thrust slowly, rolling his hips so every movement slid across different sensors. His charge was intense, but he had a lot more hardware, some of it very power-hungry, to bleed it off to.

The kliks passed by before Optimus gave a short thrust to break the rhythm and Starscream arched and screeched--an undignified sound but one he couldn't control--and lost his hold on his vocalizer for just a moment. "For the _love_ \--"

The words were cut off as much by the sudden willful draw and slam forward of Prime's hips.

Bright blue fingers scrambled for purchase on red armor as the Seeker keened and thrashed in overload. Optimus didn't slow down, he continued to thrust, deep and hard, driving the Seeker into a second overload before the first even faded, then boosted it to full screaming glory as he roared and pumped jets of super-charged transfluid deep into Starscream's valve, only to continue the impossibly hard pace without pause.

He was going to be very sore, and possibly need a discrete visit to Ratchet, but he wasn't about to break his promise to the Seeker. Every extra joule he had was pushed into his spike to help him overload again and again as Starscream clung to him, writhing and lost in the nonstop rush of movement and ecstasy. 

When transfluid started to leak out from the valve rim, Starscream screamed out in Vosian-- ** _Flight!_** \--gave one last, hard shudder, and fell offline.

Optimus groaned and allowed himself to stop while the final overload rippled through his systems and slumped down on top of his lover as a soft reboot cleared the rest.

~Starscream?~ He mentally nudged the off-line mech. Right before blacking out Optimus had felt the urge of something important that Starscream wanted to make sure he knew. He wasn't sure what the Seeker felt was so important to tell him before he was taken away, but he was determined to give the mech a chance to say it.

Starscream startled online, vents whirring and grinning as soon as he adjusted to the rapid boot. ~If I show you something, do you promise not to tell?~ he asked.

~Yes,~ Optimus answered seriously, though even Starscream knew there were caveats to the promise if it involved planetary security or the like.

The Seeker's grin widened and he nudged Optimus up far enough for him to part his chest. Silently, he lifted a single finger up to the line in his neck that the poison would be injected into in so little time, then traced it down slowly, as Optimus's optics followed along. 

It took him a klik, but Optimus suddenly realized that the line wasn't leading into the spark-supportive systems like it was supposed to. He wasn't sure how, but it was merged with a different internal system, one that would bypass the spark entirely and instead spread out through the Seeker's frame in dozens and dozens of noncritical systems before it even began to kill him. It would be _agony_.

~Why?~ Optimus tried to hold back his horror at being asked to allow another being to extinguish in such pain, yet there was not a single doubt within him that he would, because it was Starscream's will that he meet this end and it was Starscream's right, in Optimus's mind, to make that choice.

~Do you know what incompetent _fools_ they will look like?~ Starscream answered as the door opened behind them, incredibly amused at the idea. ~This isn't the right way to start a world. We're losing valuable processors and skills.~ He smirked for a moment. ~I _personally_ am irreplaceable. Mecha should be horrified, but it looks so gentle compared to being torn apart in battle that no one sees it. You've seen what I'm like when I'm in pain, I'll make a fragging _scene._ ~

~Yes, you will,~ Optimus whispered, amazed at the strength of the mech under him and grateful for the gift he was being given. ~You will make the talk of continuing executions a hard one to defend.~

~Exactly, but shh,~ Starscream purred. 

Prime leaned in for one more kiss on the dark mouth before Ratchet cleared his vocalizer out. 

"Time to go," the medic said.

~I will say nothing, except after it is over, to Ratchet, to keep what you did a secret,~ Optimus promised before unhooking the hardlines and reluctantly forcing his frame to heave upwards and over. "You'll have to carry him if it's so soon."

"Please," Starscream said with a toss of his helm as he struggled to push himself up on his arms, legs splayed obscenely apart and giving Ratchet a good view of his dripping valve before the cover snapped shut, locking the fluid in. "I can walk. Mostly." 

Ratchet gave an annoyed huff. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he half-growled. 

"Immeasurably," the Seeker purred at him. "Though I think your Prime enjoyed himself more."

"I exist to serve," Optimus mumbled, fighting to stay online while Starscream was still there.

Ratchet glared at the Seeker, holding out the stasis cuffs. "Let's go," he snapped. 

"Doc, _doc_ ," Starscream said. "Calm down, I'm coming. Big day to prepare for, you know." He glanced at Prime as he carefully slid off the berth onto his shaky legs, but he stayed upright. "You'll be there, won't you?" he asked Optimus with a smug little smirk as Ratchet grabbed his wrists and pulled them behind his back.

"Have to be," Optimus said with a weariness that had nothing to do with his frame. "Or they'll start to charge my officers too."

"Mmm, well we don't want that," Starscream drawled. Ratchet finished with the last of his bindings and started marching him out. Right before they were through the door, the Seeker stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Prime." 

Optimus looked up, focusing on him. "Starscream." 

Starscream regarded him silently for a moment. "Don't let them bind my wings."

"I won't," Optimus promised, fully focused for the moment. It was only when the door closed that he dropped back to his berth, beyond exhausted.


	2. The Execution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want the 'happy'-ish not-death focused ending, don't read this ch. It's an epilog, and like the title suggests, it's about Starscream's execution.
> 
> Mechpreg notes in this ch too.

Optimus Prime was focused inward despite the way he greeted and spoke with every mecha around him as he made his way to the overview booth next to the execution platform. It had seen too much use since the war's end, but this could well be the last time. Even if it wasn't, the new life growing next to his spark already had the fire of its sire and would be raised to hate the executions as much as both of its creators, and the sentiment would be passed on. 

He was not surprised to see Prowl already there. Though the Praxian hated executions on the principle that they were a waste of resources, every time a Seeker was up, he teeked excited by it, and always disappointed at the end. Despite professing not to desire retribution, something he did not believe was good for their world, Prowl would not deny that he _wanted_ the Seekers gone. At least not in private. Watching Praxus shatter and melt had broken things in the mech's advanced processors. Even he knew he was not the same, could never be the same, as the Enforcer he had been. In public he held hard to his commander's line and disagreed with the executions as strongly as he dared. In private, he enjoyed replaying each one.

Of the many things he had to worry about, Prowl's reaction to the newspark was high on the list, but still nowhere near the highest. 

Optimus was trying to decide if he should do whatever he could to tell Starscream about the newspark. No one else knew--not even Ratchet--and he wasn't sure if it would be crueler to tell the sire, or to let him die without knowing. 

In the end, it came down to the logistics of telling the Seeker with any amount of privacy, and realizing that Starscream's processors would crave more time to fully process the knowledge. It would be crueler for Starscream to die free of pain with unresolved thought sequences than to endure the deactivation he had designed for himself. So Optimus let it go. Starscream had spent the last orn preparing himself for death, he wouldn't ruin that. 

"Hey, boss bot!" came Jazz's cheery voice. His former TIC didn't have much of an opinion about the executions either way--live or die, all the same. "There ya are! I was startin' ta worry! Soo...?"

"So?" Optimus raised an optic ridge at his second most steady lover.

"How _was_ it!" Jazz said, giving Optimus a light, playful shove. "C'mon, y'know, _Screamer_. How glitched is he really?"

"He is not glitched at all," Optimus said quietly. "His fault is the same as Soundwave and Shockwave. Too loyal, too proud to admit he was wrong until it was far too late."

That got Jazz quiet for almost three steps. "Yeah but what did he _want?_ " he pressed. "Don't get me wrong, boss, you're a great 'face but there's no precedent there. Thought he'd'a asked ta go out in the air."

"While Prowl expected to arrange for a theory to be published in time for him to see it," Optimus said quietly. "He wanted to make sure Cybertron had a chance, that I was not going to be like so many previous Primes."

"Well we all knew _that_ ," Jazz said, and Optimus knew by the tone he was rolling his optics behind his visor. "Not like he coulda changed it even if--" Jazz stopped walking. "Boss. _Boss_. You are not telling me what I think you are telling me."

"That he intended to crush my spark chamber when he made his last request? Yes," Optimus said evenly as he sat in the overview booth next to Prowl and Ironhide.

All three of his officers were just staring at him, and Prowl's expression was starting to look dangerously murderous. 

"'E _what?_ " Ironhide finally said, getting up to his pedes. "That little--Ah'll wring 'is wings!" 

But Jazz was watching him carefully. "He _got_ ta you," he finally said.

"No, I got to him," Optimus corrected the former SpecOps Commander quietly. "He had intent, he had his opportunity, and he chose not to take it. It went exactly as I expected."

"Only with the discovered addition of intent to kill, even if he did not follow through," Prowl said coldly as he looked back out over the execution stand. The gathered crowd was huge, one of the largest since the first of the Decepticon officer executions. "I should not have allowed you to take that chance."

"It was not your call to make," Optimus pointed out, his tone and field hardening. "The choice was _mine_ and mine alone."

Prowl's doorwings dipped down immediately in submission and acknowledgement of his Prime's status and authority. "Yes, it was," he conceded. "I should have made a better case against it." His wings lifted back up and his focus sharpened suddenly and Optimus looked out to see movement, and immediately spotted the brightly colored Seeker, walking with his head and wings held high.

"Woulda thought he'd fight harder," Jazz mused, taking in the calm grief of his Prime. "Con doesn't survive the war just ta walk like that."

"He has something planned. There is a 99.9996% probability of it," Prowl's engine growled even as his voice was steady.

"Even if he does, what can he do?" Optimus chided his officers. "He is without weapons, without thrusters, he still has a bomb against his spark chamber. He had his opportunity to strike out. He will not here."

"Wings ain't bound," Ironhide rumbled, frowning. "They bound the other Seekers what didn' go out flyin'." 

"The other Seekers fought," Optimus pointed out.

"Why _didn't_ he take that opportunity?" Jazz asked suddenly, glancing away to look at his Prime for just a moment before turning back to watch Starscream climb the steps with the same pride and flash he had always been known for. Like he was going to his coronation instead of his execution.

Optimus never took his gaze of the proud mech, the sire of his first creation. He did not love Starscream, but he'd come to respect him in so many ways. He would have preferred that quick wit and bluntness, the willingness to challenge him, at his side, rather than returning to Primus in a few breems, or joors. "Because I made him believe that I intended to do right for Cybertron and his people." 

Jazz hummed, the other two muttered that they'd always known that of their Prime, and then fell silent as the charges were read. Crimes against their kind. Conspiracy, murder, cruel and willing intent to harm and destroy. The list went on and on. 

The Seeker didn't even look like he was listening, his optics focused upwards into the clear sky. His wings were lifted up and even though there was _longing_ in every line of his frame, there was acceptance. 

The charges finally finished and the executioner stepped forward with the syringe. Starscream's gaze snapped down to meet Optimus's and he gave a knowing smirk as their optics met, before he simply tilted his head back, looking to the sky. Optimus's vents stalled and the drug was pushed in. 

Prowl was the first to realize something was wrong, though Jazz wasn't far behind as they stood as one, watching with sudden intensity. They didn't know what was happening, only that the poison wasn't doing what it was supposed to. 

Then Starscream's piercing voice, loud enough to be heard across storms and battlefields, screeched in agony as he seized and dropped to his knees, ruby optics bleached with pain.

Even prepared for it, Optimus gasped, his tanks churning and horrified.

" _What_ th--" Ironhide was on his pedes and leaning forward as he stared. Around the Seeker, the council of witnesses elected from the Senate looked just as horrified as any of them and they started yelling at the mech who'd performed the injection, as others grabbed Starscream's shoulders and tried, fumblingly, to figure out what was going wrong. Their excuse for a medical representative had a scanner out and was shouting at Starscream to stay still. 

But the Seeker's strength as he thrashed made it impossible for any of them to even get a good look, much less a scanner read, and the gathered crowd was whispering, murmuring, a shocked, hushed horror. 

It was a humiliating, inglorious end for the proud Seeker. Minor systems corroded and began leaking processed energon from beneath his plating, fumes rose up from his engines, his optics shattered from within. Exhaust systems overflowed with his own liquefied internals and oil that should have been a healthy shine came out as sludge. Optimus stared as sensor plating on his wings-- _hands reached up to caress the white wings spread above him_ \--burnt, curled, sloughed off. The powerful corrosive was supposed to go right to a crystal to melt it and cause a spark to gutter in less than a dozen nanokliks, but it was hitting everything else first. Starscream was writhing on the ground in his own fuel and oil, having lost all control of his frame, and he was _still alive_. Still screaming. 

" _Prime,_ " Jazz said, and he had a rifle drawn and charged, only waiting for his leader to give him permission to take the shot. 

Optimus was shaking, shaken, but it was enough of a show. 

"Fire," Prime whispered hoarsely and Jazz lifted the weapon and took his aim. "Fire," he called more loudly, warning everyone else that the shot was authorized. "End it." 

Jazz pulled the shot and it hit Starscream hard, shattering through his chest and triggering the bomb inside. The explosive reacted with the poison in the Seeker's frame and erupted with a blinding flare-up, engulfing the platform with light. 

When everything was still and settled, the broken, shattered frame was crumpled and smoking in an undignified heap, and there was finally, _finally_ silence.

Silence broken by the furious growl of a powerful engine, one that completely overshadowed the throttled-back purr of the one next to it. Optimus Prime made a leap over the railing of the overview booth and landed on the execution platform with the full aura of his battlefield self.

" _What is the meaning of this?_ " the Prime roared, allowing the full impact of his nature shine through for the first time since peace had been declared.

No one seemed able to answer him. The council looked at each other, then at the executioner, who held his hands up with an angry gesture at the guards who'd walked Starscream out. 

"I got the right line, I _know_ what the right line is!" he protested. 

"He wasn't ever unsupervised!" the guards immediately said, looking terrified. "Not once!" 

"We'll have the remains examined, _thoroughly_ ," one of the Senators was finally able to stammer. "Maybe a--a deformation--" 

"--a full report--" 

"Yes, yes a full report--"

"How could you _not know_ how to execute someone you've held for _vorns?_ " Optimus allowed his full rage at the executions, the injustice, everything that was going wrong to flare out in his field as it lashed across the Senators. "This is the last execution. _The last one._ Do you understand?"

And all the political games, the popularity contests, the public opinions polls--none of it could help the council now, not in the face of the horrified thousands who had just seen _death_ before them. Real, unfiltered, humiliating, agonizing death. All they could do was stammer out their submission to the Prime's Command.

"Guards," Optimus rounded on them. "You will deliver the frame to Ratchet as it is. I will not have any of this covered up." His optics turned to the crowd. "No mecha deserves to extinguish early. Not from the hunger and lack of maintenance that helped begin the Great War, and not for the political gain of those who claim they won it by surviving. The greatest lesson I learned was as a dockworker. Beware your leaders. Beware those in power. Give loyalty only to those who have proven they are willing to put their fate on the line for you. Once those in power care more for keeping that power than safeguarding that every Cybertronian has the basic rights to live free of pain, hunger and fear, they have begun to take the path of the last Senate. Ask yourselves, why were these deactivations necessary?"

Quiet, shocked murmurs rose up, confusion being the predominant emotion he could see in those surrounding him. Confusion and uncertainty. Optimus gave them long, silent moments to fully process what they'd just seen before he continued. 

"Tell me, does the risk of _this_ ," he gestured angrily to the broken Seeker, "Even come _close_ to justifying the need for revenge? Revenge will destroy us. _Freedom and life are the rights of every sentient being,_ and as a society, we have a duty to ensure that for every member, not just the ones who happened to win. Who among myself and my officers has not committed the same crimes as this creature did? Who among _you_ did not take part in a single death, whether by violence or withholding of resources? If this is how we choose to place our blame, we might as well declare another war right now, because _that_ is where it will lead us.

"I will fight for the rights of my people. All my people. Friends, enemies, those I have never met. I am done with allowing politics to get in the way of doing the right thing. There was a time when every execution required the consent of the Prime to happen. There was a time when to failure to maintain the prosperity of your district," his focus landed on the Senators, "was grounds for exile." He stalked up to the politically powerful mecha and lowered his voice to a dangerous growl. "There was a time when Cybertron prospered because politicians and nobles were held accountable. If there must be another war to bring that time back, so be it. You _will_ have this, your rights, responsibilities and penalties, before me within the decaorn. Have I made myself clear?"

No one, including the Prime, was ignorant of the three mechs that had joined him, standing back, armor battle-tight and openly willing to follow their leader to hell again.

There was anger on some of the Senators' faces, but many of them were now looking at the Seeker's remains in dismay, and even guilt. "Yes, Prime," they finally chorused. 

Starscream had died trusting in his Prime to make things right for Cybertron, and before Primus, Optimus was going to hold to that, no matter what it took. Even if it meant an armed insurrection against his own government.

Again.


	3. Prequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set before the first chapter, just a snippet on how it started, along with the fate of TC and Warp.

Starscream knew what the pedefalls were bringing. He wished he could turn away, ignore it, pretend to be in recharge ... but there was no way to ignore _this_. He didn't even know what he was going to do, but he couldn't look away. Not now. Not after...

Skywarp came into view, flanked by two guards, and the purple Seeker immediately stopped, looking into the cell and meeting Starscream's optics with his own. "Star..." 

"Keep moving," the grounder guard growled, shoving him. Skywarp turned on him with a snarl and two blasters were immediately focused on him, one on his helm, the other on his wings, which were bound back. 

"They're trine," the other guard snapped, an Aerial. He was the one pointing at the wings, the threat that _mattered_. "Let them say goodbye."

The first made a disgusted sound, then stepped back, gesturing towards Starscream's cell. Skywarp turned back to him, looking lost. Starscream stood up, pressing his hand against the energy field keeping him locked inside. Skywarp's came to rest on the other side. 

"I tried to ask for..." Skywarp said. 

"I know," Starscream said. He'd heard about Skywarp's last request for a night with his trine being denied on grounds of involving more than one mech in the request. If you asked him, it was just one more way to torture them. If he'd been given a request at the same time, he would have asked for the same thing, but he hadn't even been officially sentenced yet. Thundercracker and Skywarp, as "minor" officials, had been in and out of the court in an orn each. His own trial was still ongoing. Either way, they'd said no. 

So Skywarp had asked for Thundercracker. 

And Starscream understood. 

"TC, he ... yesterday," Skywarp said. 

"I know," Starscream whispered, gaze dropping. The other member of their trine had been executed the previous orn. He'd walked past Starscream's cell without pause or glance. The last words they'd exchanged had been the vicious, petty insults at the end of a stupid, violent argument, before Megatron had fallen. 

And now he was dead.

And soon, Skywarp would be dead. Thundercracker had asked to go out flying, and Starscream had heard the sonic boom overhead. He hadn't heard the explosion, but he was sure it had happened just after. 

Skywarp would be killed on a stage, in front of a crowd of grounders, like entertainment. 

This was wrong. It was _wrong_. 

So they'd lost. To try them with any kind of pretense of _fairness_ and then do _this?_ Dying in battle was one thing. Knowing that his trinemates, proud Seekers who'd only followed what he thought was best so long ago, were being killed for the same crimes that active, surviving politicians had committed... 

It was _wrong_. 

"Star, there's so much..." 

"I know," Starscream said quietly, the third repetition, and told his wingmate as much of it as he could in those last moments with his wings. He regretted what had happened. He didn't resent Skywarp or Thundercracker for their choices. He would never regret flying to win them, but he understood if they hated him for the choices he'd made. "I _know_ , 'Warp. It's okay. It'll be okay." 

Skywarp offered a faint smile. "Love ya, Screamer." 

Starscream smiled back. "Love you, 'Warp." 

And then he was gone, marched down the hall by the guards. 

Starscream curled up on the floor of his cell, processors racing. Very slowly, his hand found his neck, touched the line they would use to kill him, and an idea began to form. 


	4. The Remorseful Executioner by Dragoness Eclectic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A true epilog written by Dragoness Eclectic focused on the poor executioner.

[The Remorseful Executioner](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1402636) by [Dragoness Eclectic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonessEclectic/pseuds/Dragoness%20Eclectic/works)

Go read. It's good.

**Author's Note:**

> From [http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=13499136t13499136](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=13499136)
> 
> Prisoners on death row have the right to make a last request. The request is not guaranteed to be fulfilled, it depends on what it is, but an attempt is made within reason. A few days before his execution, one bot is asked what he wants. He requests an interface with a specific bot.
> 
> That bot opens his door to find enforcers on his doorstep, asking him if he'll 'face the mech who's on death row. He's the sort of mech who is sensitive to others needs, not callous at all, and he knows the mech on death row from his past, though what sort of relationship they had may have been completely professional or he might remember the mech from a brief encounter that is not personal in nature. They're somewhere between strangers and acquaintances. He never even knew the bot was in prison.
> 
> I'd like it if the mech requested is the level-headed, shy, respectful sort who always tries to help out, and the mech in prison is the one everybody likes, that takes charge, who doesn't mind trouble, and takes what he wants without feeling guilty.
> 
> The prisoner only gets one chance, one interface, so he draws it out for as long as possible, resulting in very slow, deliberate sex.
> 
> Do not want: over-much focus on the fact that the bot is going to die. The bot is cool and charismatic and faces everything head on, even this. His fearlessness is part of his charm, though he's not above using his circumstances to guilt trip his interfacing partner if it will help him get something he wants.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Remorseful Executioner](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402636) by [Dragoness Eclectic (DragonessEclectic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonessEclectic/pseuds/Dragoness%20Eclectic)




End file.
